


Photographer

by AGirlCalledPrissy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlCalledPrissy/pseuds/AGirlCalledPrissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>nonmagic AU Tom finds an interesting photo album in Harry’s house and blackmails the ebony-haired man. HPTMR, mentioned HPDM PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photographer

**Photographer**

**Rated:**  M

 **Genre:**  Romance

 **Summary:**  nonmagic AU Tom finds an interesting photo album in Harry’s house and blackmails the ebony-haired man. HPTMR, mentioned HPDM PWP

 **Warnings:**  sexual situations, masturbation, homosexual relationships. Basically if you don’t like it, please don’t read. Also JK rowling owns Harry Potter series, not I - Although i wish sometimes.

A/N: I have a bit of a rut with my other HPTMR fanfic, Cannibalistic, due to college stuff and writer’s block. So I decided to entertain myself… by writing homoerotica. Info on how I get my muse, basically dubstep and melodic dubstep rushes my mind. This may end up as a two shot.

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Please enjoy & review!

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Chapter 1

Today was not Harry’s day. Sweaty and disheveled, he woke up with a raging hard-on and it was barely an hour from when the brunch that his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, had planned with his godfather, Sirius Black would start. Harry took out a non-descriptive black photo album that he hid under his bed-mattress and proceeded to flip through the neatly placed black and white photos for a good wanking material. He slipped slightly out of his boxers, revealing his pale shaven crotch area and throbbing hard cock. He wasn’t the most endowed fellow, but he definitely wasn’t small. While Harry imagined himself in one of the positions that was depicted in the pornographic photo album, Harry bit his white pillow, as to quiet his loud moans, and jerked off his cock hard and quick with his delicate hands. After a quick orgasmic adventure with his privates, Harry quickly hid his black photo album among his messed up bed sheets and took a quick shower. As he got in his small shower stall, he flushed with a red shade of shame upon his cheeks; it would not do if anyone, especially his girlfriend, had found out what was contained in the photos. He then made a mental note to clean up his room before guests arrive.

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a right-wing politician who worked as a legal ambassador at the British Ministry. Despite what most people thought of the wavy dark-haired man, he was, at heart, an avid photographer. Right after his graduating ceremony, Tom surprised many of his admirers, classmates and teachers by taking a job at Borgin & Burkes antiques and professional photography in a shady part of London. He took his photography work with a serious passion. Although Tom was penniless and often went hungry during those times, he enjoyed himself. He was a hopeless dreamer then, but his dreaming days were behind him. A year later, Tom made a name for himself within the ministry by climbing up the ranks quickly using unethical methods such as bribery and blackmail. Although Tom personally preferred the male gender, he engaged in a purely political marriage with Bellatrix Black, due to the Black family’s immense political power and connections among old money. Bellatrix did not mind that Tom was a poof and has a long standing affair with her lover, Rodolophus Lestrange.

He was fitted into a sharp tailored black suit and pants for brunch with his in-laws at the Potter residence. The suit brought out the gray flecks in Tom’s cold blue eyes and his tall stature. The Potters were old money, but however Lord Potter and his wife had passed away due to a mysterious illness and left only his son, Harry Potter, a professional football player (A/N: football isn’t American football – basically its soccer). It was rumored that the Potter boy did not know of his heritage and wealth until his eighteenth birthday where he inherited the Potter fortune.

The Potter residence was a quaint two story house in the suburbs. He and Bellatrix was welcomed by Bellatrix’s brother and godfather to Potter, Sirius Black, and Potter’s girlfriend, Ginerva Weasley, a tomboyish ginger-haired girl. The current generation of Weasleys were known for their ill thought-out business endeavours and subsequently, lost all their wealth. The little female Weasley must have something on Harry Potter for her to be even considered as a future Potter wife.

Sirius Black gave a bark-like laugh and hugged Bellatrix with all his crushing strength. Turning his sharp nose up, Tom gave a cold handshake to the enthusiastic Lord Black and had to endure Miss Weasley’s zealous speech on her current occupation of playing women’s football. He rather be back in his quiet home and processing his photos in his black room.

"Did you see the game where the HolyHarpies scored a total of 6 to 1-" The Weaslette squeaked in her horribly fake voice. Tom knew the tone of that particular voice; it was used to suck up to superiors and important business men. The latter of which must have been former clients of the flame-haired harlot before she met the wealthy Potter family. Tom excused himself from the tiresome babbling of the hostess and went in search of the host, Harry Potter.

Surprisingly, the boy was in the kitchen preparing the meal for the guests while his girlfriend entertained the guests – however, poorly. A variety of hors d’oeuvres were placed carefully on cooling racks, awaiting hungry mouths to feed. However, the single person in the small kitchen was a beacon of attraction. Barely graduated out of school, Harry Potter looked as if he was still sixteen with unruly black hair, short stature and ugly round glasses. Despite the horrible eyewear, the boy’s eyes were the most astonishing shade of acidic green and soft pink lips that women would die for - an unusual combination of beauty among the barely acceptable candidates for a professional such as himself. Tom’s fingers itched to demand the Potter boy to model in one of his photo sets though Tom would never admit to such a thing.

A sausage-like finger tapped his shoulder and Tom mentally sighed. It was his old Chemistry professor, Horace Slughorn, with his disgusting mustache and obsession for collecting up and coming influential figures such as Tom was in high school. Being a former Headboy and Prefect from the prestigious private school of Hogwarts was such a pain sometimes. He faked a polite grin and greeted his former professor with false pleasantry and gusto.

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Bored and irritated from idle chatter with the masses, Tom entertained himself by drifting away from the incoming guests and headed to the quiet second floor. He amused himself by picking the lock on the Potter heir’s room and sitting on the bare white bed-sheets of Potter’s king-sized bed-mattress. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed as a hard square object pushed against his rear. His fingers grasped a large plain black book and Tom smirked to himself: jackpot. It must be Harry Potter’s diary; it would provide substantial blackmail in the future, when and if the Potter boy wished to go into politics. A tedious lock was placed on the book, but locks and Tom did not get along very well. He used the same paper clip, which was used in unlocking the bedroom, on the black book. It wasn’t a book; it was a photo album… of the Potter boy in what must be illicit activities. Tom felt his mouth dry slightly and licked his thin lips; the boy could be defined in a single word: exquisite. His plans took a devious turn for the better: The ebony-haired boy would be his. The politician took out one of the carefully preserved photos and placed it in his pocket.

He entered the kitchen again. Many guests had already left for their respective homes. And with the soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend, Miss. Weasley, chatting up a mildly attractive brunette man, Tom made little noise with his black loafers and sneaked up to the smaller man’s behind. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and wordlessly, grinded his hips against the ebony-haired man’s ass – digging his erection into the tight pants.

"W-what are you doing?!" Mr. Potter stammered, fingers fumbled with the dish he was currently washing. The lone dish dropped out of his soapy hands with a dull splash into the soapy water. His sharp face was flushing with a beautiful shade of crimson from the unexpected sexual harassment on his rear.

"You like this, don’t you, Mr. Potter? You dirty harlot, what would your little redhead think about your… rendezvouses?" Tom whispered into his ear. His velvety chocolate voice bit into the ebony’s guilty conscious. Mr. Potter looked away from the intruder and struggled with the politician’s strong grip around his waist.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Riddle! You better let me go this instant!" The smaller man snarled in defiance.

"I prefer if you called me Tom… as we will be seeing each other often. Care to explain this? Unless, if you want me to bring up this photo to Miss. Weasley…" Tom lifted the thin photo to Mr. Potter’s face with one hand, and the other hand was palming the young man’s clothed crotch. Mr. Potter was struck speechless, face to face with his past crimes.

The photo was simply in grayscale. However, the one of the two men displayed in the photo was Harry James Potter in his birthday suit. The gagged Potter heir, aged in his late teens at the time, was shown in a orgasm, with his hands tied with a dark ribbon and head thrown back in a muffled moan; his sweaty midsection showed toned abs and milky cum staining his stomach. Although the picture photographed was already more than enough to be considered erotic blackmail, more shocking blackmail laid near the bottom of the photo. Mr. Potter’s cock was dripped with pre-cum and restrained with another dark ribbon rope around the base of his erection. His ass was occupied with a young blonde’s softening erection nestled in his erotic zone.

Mr. Potter swallowed deeply before asking shakily, “What do you want?” His body was already responding positively to Tom’s eager hands, hips thrusting into the palms of the older man. Harry knew when he had lost a battle of wills; he could only comply with Mr. Riddle’s demands.

"A dinner with yours truly, and other events may occur." Tom purred; he was pleased with what had transpired and how submissively Mr. Potter took the news. He unzipped Mr. Potter’s jeans and started jerking off the throbbing erection with his hand. Quiet pants, groans and small moans could be heard in the kitchen, Mr. Riddle’s hips grinded faster against the young Mr. Potter’s rear, and with a quick adjustment to Mr. Potter’s body position and a fumbling unzipping of Mr. Riddle’s fly, two throbbing members participated in an erotic display of clashing. Mr. Potter’s eyes were gazing unseeingly upwards as Mr. Riddle’s strong hand pumped the two gentlemen to release. Strings of milky white substance landed on young Mr. Potter’s shirt and the two took a few moments to catch their breaths back. The panting younger man mumbled a quick excuse to Tom to change into a different outfit. Zipping up his softening member, Tom merely adjusted himself to look presentable and whispered silky, "See you at Eight. Le Gavroche. I’ll know if you miss our date."

Flushed and ashamed, Mr. Potter left the kitchen with a quick look around to see if any guests walked into their… meeting.

Tom sighed with contentment and left their residence without a care that his plus one had left with another man. Tonight would be more than enough to be of service to his libido.

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